


Eliot's Quest

by Doomkitty25



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Eliot Centric, Grief, I ignore Alice and Q pre-death confessions :), M/M, OOC Kind of, Post-Canon Fix-It, Quentin is lost, Quest for closure, Questing, Swearing, seriousEliot, so much swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-02-10 13:47:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18661630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doomkitty25/pseuds/Doomkitty25
Summary: It's been a month since Quentin died, and everyone is either working on ways to get him back or trying to sort out the Fillory fuckery. Eliot is lost in limbo, but he starts feeling magic that doesn't belong to him creeping up inside him. He doesn't have time for this, his focus needs to be on Quentin. But figuring out what's happening to him takes him on a quest that might lead directly to Quentin, so he forges ahead and does his level best to balance his shit emotional state, his desire to bring Quentin back, and the mysterious fucking magic that's taking his body for a ride.





	1. Eliot Reaches Out

**Author's Note:**

> I added a bunch of junk about magic that I pulled from wiki's about magic. Seemed appropriate to further explain some of the confusion around the magic weirdness going on with El.

He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,   
Enwrought with golden and silver light,   
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths   
Of night and light and the half light,   
I would spread the cloths under your feet:   
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;   
I have spread my dreams under your feet;   
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

\- William Butler Yeats

 

 

_It was dark, beyond the absence of light, beyond the absence of sound, he was alive, but void of all feeling or emotion from outside. He had a body, a physical weight, but there was nothing above him or below him, just an open abyss. There was a feeling inside his stomach, something warm from inside, but he didn’t know what it was, only that if he placed his hands on his stomach the feeling inside of him ignited his soul, sparking a universe of stars and he felt the pain flow through him tethering his mind to the feeling within. He curled in upon himself clinging to the pain and the anchor._

Eliot stepped out of the shower and pulled his towel from the vanity. He absentmindedly ran the towel over his body, drying the water from himself while considering his options. Quentin was gone. Period. Full Stop. His body felt like it had been packed inside of a cheese grater. Margo was frantically trying to establish what the hell was going on in Fillory, and Alice was driving Eliot up the motherfucking wall. Quentin was gone. Period. Full Stop. He tried to breathe. It was hard these days; a month had passed but Eliot wasn’t finding it any easier.

They’d found lodging in Fillory as they attempted to work out just who the hell had overthrown Fen and Josh, and Eliot couldn’t really bring himself to give a shit. He had books on the desk they’d set up by the window in his room, and as he pulled on simple grey trousers and a black shirt, he ran through the titles again. Of the 87 books they’d been given that mentioned the underworld, he had about 5 more left to wade through. Alice was in the Library attempting to glean as much information as she could with Kady’s help. Eliot knew there was nothing to find in the Library, just like he knew that there was nothing in the books Alice had dropped off with him. He knew a lot of things he couldn’t explain these days.

He knew exactly when the sun would rise and exactly when it would set, it didn’t matter if he was in the forest or in the cave to the west of the town they’d settled in, with no access to windows or the sky, he simply knew. When he ran into the odd Fillorian about town, he sometimes picked up information about their lives that he shouldn’t know. His powers were evolving, and he had a pretty good idea he had the monster to blame for it.

Telekinesis was not a rare talent among magicians, spells could obviously be used for telekinetic powers in other disciplines, but to have the innate ability to simply will movement was something that marked you a physical kid. Ballistic telekinesis came from emotional bursts, throwing objects around and moving objects with bursts of power. Vector telekinesis would manifest if the user could learn to control their ballistic kinetic power with more nuance, from tying knots to creating kinetic shields. Tactile Telekinetic power came only to High master magicians and it revolved around the power of flight. Though many kids could come through Brakebills with Telekinetic power, Eliot caught the attention of Fogg immediately even in timeline 1.

Eliot’s power had always been just shy of being remarkable. He’d been told on more than one occasion that the control he wielded was unprecedented. The headmaster had teachers pull him aside to test him frequently in his first year at Brakebills. He assumed at the time it was because he killed someone. They all said that every telekinetic they’d ever come across could move objects, but that their mind eventually broke with the strain of the power or they had to scale back their use of their innate ability to protect their mind, but Eliot seemed to not suffer at all in the same way the previous students had. The fact that he developed so quickly from Ballistic to Vector was enough of a wonder, but that his mind didn’t strain from the power that he seemed to wield so effortlessly. Kady said the hedge witches had a few natural telekinetics, but none of them had developed beyond the ballistic stage naturally. They all struggled to tap into the control that came so effortlessly to Eliot. He could be 3 sheets to the wind and stoned off his ass, but barely lose control of his abilities. It's not that he was 100% controlled, it's just that his mind had learned how to build boundaries between what would destroy him. He had a hard time articulating that to people. Emotionally he was a fucking mess, but his mind knew where to place boundaries for magic. It wasn't something he worked at, or exorcised or practiced, it just was.

He sat on the chair in front of his desk, propped his long legs up, and ran a hand through his hair. He was arrogant he knew and more than a little egotistical, but his power was growing passed what he considered  a normal threshold even for him. He had spent several hours that morning working spells that he considered difficult, and he felt something within himself which he had never felt before. He raised his head to the ceiling and knew without even attempting the act itself that he could fly. He could pull magic into him right now and fly out of Fillory. He wouldn’t, but he could. The knowledge that seemed to be bouncing around in his brain was confusing and he knew he probably needed to talk about it with someone, but his someones were indisposed or fucking gone. Margo was really the only option, but he didn’t want to place any more on her shoulders than Fillory already was. In the end, he didn’t trust anyone else enough to do this without making him sick to his stomach. So he sucked it up. He needed help and he needed Quintin. If this thing was going to stop that from happening or help it happen he needed to know.

Penny was a traveler, he walked through dimensions, his movement was but a thought, and Eliot had always found the mechanics of traveling fascinating. It was based in the psychic. By tapping into psychic energies, Penny then appropriated a form of psychic telekinesis to shift dimensional matter. Eliot had spent more than one evening since he’d been freed from the monster contemplating Penny and his power. Eliot knew he would have to be careful, so he worked on his wards and prepared. Getting Penny’s help was the first step, and he could be a complete dick on the best of days.

“Yo what’s up, you look like shit.” Penny said as he popped into the room.

Eliot gave an elegant barely there shrug, “Fuck you.”

Penny raised a brow, “Monster possession clearly didn’t improve your shitty attitude.”

Eliot glared. Penny smirked. “What do you want Eliot? I’ve got work to do, and even if you are my favorite arrogant jackass, I need to get back to it.”

Eliot sighed, he needed to be blunt to get Penny’s help but he also didn’t want to start a panic amongst the others, and he definitely didn’t want to get thrown into the Library’s less than hospitable holding cells. “I need you to look inside my mind to see if the monster left anything behind.”

Penny’s eyes went wide and his whole body tensed, “We checked when you came back man, what makes you think something is wrong, and why the fuck aren’t we talking to Alice and the others?”

Eliot gave his best haughty king look, staring down his very patrician nose at the Traveler, and pulling his legs from the desk to plant his feet on the ground. “I DON’T know that anything was left behind, and that’s why we’re not telling the others. Everyone of them is working on getting Quentin back, working through the new magic bullshit, or trying to figure out what the fuck is going on with Fillory. So rather than cause a panic, I thought I’d have our local psychic check first. Then if it’s something, we can rally the Scooby gang.”

Penny seemed taken aback. Eliot was serious, but there was something about him that made Penny shudder on the inside. Penny took a breath. Eliot’s voice was echoing through him. It was triggering his senses in a way that he never had before. He hadn’t seen him since he’d dropped him off in Fillory with Margo over a month ago, but there was definitely something different. He didn’t feel like the monster, he just felt a little bit different. “There’s something.  What the fuck man.” Penny didn’t yell but it was pretty close.

Eliot nodded. “My power is either reacting to Fillory, the release of the wellspring, magic untapped, the Monster left something behind when he exited, or some other fuckall thing. Either way, I need you to see if you can see, tap into my aura or whatever the fuck and help me figure it out.” Eliot waved his hand at Penny.

Penny raised his brow again, Eliot’s arrogance grated on his goddamned nerves. Saving him hadn’t really been Penny’s first choice, but he didn’t regret it; however, when the arrogant jackass ordered him around imperiously he wanted to plant his fist into his face. Penny rolled his eyes, and reached into Eliot’s mind. He steeled himself, there was no telling what the fucker had going on in his mind, and he didn’t want to catch sight of something he wouldn’t be able to un-see.

Eliot had always been like a lake of ice. Very rarely did Penny get something from the other magician, and if he did he suspected it was Eliot intentionally giving the information up. Unlike Quentin, who couldn’t help but leave a door wide open for others to sink into. Eliot’s mask wasn’t just something he projected to the world, it was a very tightly locked door a psychic would have to rip apart to get into without his permission. It was actually one of the reasons the monster possessing Eliot had confused Penny to some degree. If there was anyone at Brakebills he’d ever come across who could keep something out of his head it would have been Eliot Waugh. Eliot surviving a God possession was all the more believable considering his mind fortress was an incomprehensible dungeon.

“Eliot you’re going to have loosen some of your control. I can’t get to your magic if you don’t let me in.” Penny said grudgingly.

“I’m trying you fucker.” Eliot spat. Allowing someone into his mind after having his control wrenched from him was difficult. Overcoming the vulnerability was the worst part. He managed to bring down his walls, and let Penny in, but only just barely. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he resisted the urge to wipe it away, not wanting to draw attention to how weak this made him feel.

Penny walked through Eliot’s walls and nearly jerked himself out of Eliot’s mind just as quickly. He was a motherfucking mess. Penny knew Eliot’s connection to Quentin wasn’t normal, hell he was psychic and Quentin had a way of feeling about Eliot that wasn’t just best friend feelings. He also knew the feelings were something that only time could develop, he’d felt it around elderly people, so he knew something had happened in the mosaic timeline that neither magician wanted to discuss with the group. Penny mostly ignored them, but walking through Eliot’s wards made him want to crumple in on himself. What Eliot felt for Quentin was beyond love, beyond faith, it was a universe of stars and the man was drowning in it...Penny took a breath.

This wasn’t the difference. He wasn’t here to intrude on Eliot’s feelings, he was here to look at his power, so he focused his mind and searched. Everyone’s power was like a layer of energy that surrounded them. Many referred to as an aura, but psychics knew it was more than that. The layer of energy that surrounded a person was anchored to them at several points of their body. Chakra studies were complex and magicians could be intense in their debate, but the power chakra did rest in the stomach, regardless of its purpose or connection to the other chakras, it was there. To help direct his focus, penny held a hand up to Eliot’s stomach, not touching just guiding his focus. “Well Fuck” he said aloud and pulled himself out of Eliot’s energy.

Eliot felt Penny leaving and breathed a sigh of relief. “Well?” he said impatiently.

Penny shook his head, “There’s something there, it’s definitely not the monster. And it’s not malicious. It’s not…not you…but it’s not all you either. I don’t fucking know. I’ve never really felt anything like it. It is something plus you though, so it’s not Fillory or magic. I don’t think it’s sentient or alive, it’s like a fucking magic addon or something.”

“Well fuck.” Eliot echoed penny. He had something inside of himself that wasn’t wholly him, but not wholly not him. That made a fuck lot of sense. “So I’m magic pregnant.” He snickered, but shook himself. “Okay what the fuck do we do?”

Penny shook his head, “We get you to the Library.” Penny placed his hand on Eliot more to warn him than anything, and opened his mind to the Library. He pulled Eliot behind him and was caught completely unaware as his body slammed into the wooden floor of the house they’d bought in Fillory.

Eliot rolled over on his side after falling to the ground. “Penny?”

“I’m fine. Something is blocking me from getting to the Library.” Penny stood up intent upon traveling, but Eliot grabbed his shirt. Penny looked down with a fierce glare.

“Is it blocking you or is it blocking me?” Eliot asked tiredly.

Penny arched a brow, “Good question.” Then he blinked out of existence. Eliot rose and sat himself back in the chair by his desk. Penny was back in less than a minute. “yeah that’s not fucking worrisome, it’s definitely you.”

Eliot groaned, this was just fucking perfect. “Try to take me to the outer region of Fillory. Not all the way to Blackspire, but as far as you’re comfortable going.”

Penny grabbed him again, but this time the magic let him through. “Well looks like anywhere in Fillory is fine, but the Library is off limits.”

Eliot nodded and turned his face to the wind. “What about the cross roads? Or earth?”

Penny put his hand on his shoulder and tried 3 other places outside of Fillory and felt the same resistance. “You’re bound to Fillory, Fuck.”

Eliot nodded, “You think that’s the magic tied to me. A binding spell?”

Penny pulled him back to the cottage without answering immediately. He paced around Eliot’s room. “Nah dude, what’s inside of you isn’t a spell. It’s a something. Your crack about being magical pregnant isn’t actually that far off the mark. The magic is fused with your magic, but it’s something else. It doesn’t feel bad, it feels mostly like you, but maybe if you leave Fillory it won’t survive so in the interest of self-preservation it’s locking you down? Even though it’s not really alive, maybe the magic needs Fillory to….charge or well, fuck I don’t know”

Eliot sighed and moved himself to his bed. “Well magic panic attack is apparently going to commence. Time to get the others. Since I’m in no immediate danger, we probably don't need to full on panic, but get them back here as soon as you can.” Penny agreed and went to gather the team.

 


	2. Soul Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the group discovers Eliot’s dirty soul D:

_Rocking into the abyss, movement was becoming harder like he was rolling in a jar of syrup and the burning feeling in his stomach was thankfully constant but nothing was happening. He knew something had to happen, he was finding it hard to remember what he was holding onto. The pain anchored him, but the anchor would fade if he didn’t figure out a way to sustain it beyond his own desire to cling. He couldn’t look down or up because the darkness enveloped every sense, he still had his mind, so he searched, he crawled through the absence and found a memory. Sunlight blinded his mind, and he smiled in the darkness, he could feel the furious roar of a lion and knew he had found what he needed to keep him from fading into the darkness. He pressed harder on his stomach and waited, far more patiently than what he was missing._

The cottage Margo had found in Fillory was a small 2 bedroom affair in a forest outside a small village that Eliot couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. Sometime after they’d arrived in Fillory and found out about the overthrow, Margo had ninja’d her way into Whitespire to find Fen and Josh. Eliot was only a tiny bit ashamed that he had no idea what happened after that, he’d been wrapped up in books on the underworld. He promised himself after Quentin came home he'd catch up on all the Fillory drama, but it was just too much for him to worry about at the moment. Margo came storming through the front door of the cabin in her usual brash over dramatic fashion. “What the fuck El?” She bit out.

Eliot was sitting at the small dining room table, trying to feel his way around the new magic inside of him. “Bambi, what? What the fuck?” he cocked a brow at her.

“You’ve been repossessed. What the hell have you been doing that got you repossessed fucker? She said. Eliot could hear the barely disguised concern in her voice, just underneath the pure exasperation. “Also you let the fucking traveler in on it, but you don’t tell me bitch, not cool. I expect groveling. Like now.”

Eliot shook his head. “First of all, I’m not repossessed. Second, I wasn’t sure what the hell it was and he’s the only psychic I know that wouldn’t freak the fuck out on me and start talking about my place in the universe or some shit. Bambi, the minute we figured out it was something, I had him go get everybody.” He stood from the table and went to gather her up into a hug. “I promise I’m not keeping secrets.”

Margo hugged him back, still pissed, but willing to concede. “Fine, but I still maintain this is bullshit. Why the fuck can’t you seem to get a break lately, goddamn?”

Eliot knew the question was rhetorical, but he felt the answer echo through his body ‘the soul is difficult, you must touch the divine’. Eliot nearly fell over, Penny said the thing in him wasn’t sentient but now it could fucking talk. What the actual fuck? The voice wasn’t really a voice, it wasn’t a sound but a thought. Eliot couldn’t be sure, but it felt like his own thought, but a memory of one. It was less than a sentence, a statement of vague nothingness, so Eliot kept quiet. It wasn’t that he was keeping a secret, he just wasn’t sure what the fuck just happened. He hugged Margo tighter and went back to the table, she huffed at him but walked across the room to disarm herself.  As she pulled her sword belt from her very shapely hips, Alice and Kady walked through the door, followed by Penny.

“Alright Bitches, everyone’s here, so what the fuck?” Margo said in her High King of Fillory commanding voice.

Penny had already filled everyone in on what had gone down in Eliot’s room, so Kady and Alice both were weighed down with back packs of magical artifacts and books. He leaned against the door way and shook his head at Margo, “everyone is not here.”

Margo swung around to face him, “Well who the fuck is late to the party?”

Like magic, Julia blinked into the room. “Oh right hedgebitch #2.” Margo glared, and sat down at the table next to Eliot.

Julia blinked. She and Margo were cool, but they were never going to be best friends. Too much had happened, and Julia’s pain ran a little too deeply to be able to coexist with Margo’s pain. Maybe one day, but they were allies and they trusted the other in tight situations. Which is far more than they could say about Alice. Julia understood Alice, she got where she was coming from, but just because she understood didn’t mean she trusted her. She watched Alice take a seat on the couch, and then she felt it. Her eyes went wide and she whirled around to face Eliot. “Eliot, just so we’re clear, you haven’t summoned anything since we last spoke, oh three weeks ago?”

Eliot shook his head looking at Julia intensely, “No, can't say that I've been impressed with the performance of the God's we've met so far, why?”

“Jesus, it’s like there’s a smudge, or a fingerprint on your soul.” Julia said with wonder.

“Are you serious right now, I have someone’s dirty fingers inside of me and not in a fun sex way? And why does that make your face go all gooey?” Eliot’s what the fuck face swung to everyone in the room. Margo giggled for god’s sake.

Julia grinned, “Eliot you’ve been blessed by a divine, by a god.” The temperature in the room dropped 10 degrees as everyone shared a look of absolute horror, everyone but Julia that is. Kady dropped her head on the back of the couch and muttered “here we fucking go.”

“How exactly is that something to smile about Julia? I mean on what occasion have we ever been positively affected by the presence of a god?” Alice asked crisply. Kady nodding along.

Julia laughed. “Chill. He’s not possessed, he hasn’t been taken over, and we don’t have to exorcise or try to kill him after we spent so much time trying to save his worthless ass. I’d say that’s something to smile about, do I like that a god is hanging around…well no, and I like it even less that it has touched one of us, but lets be real, it could be so fucking much worse right now. He could still have pieces of the Monster inside of him that we missed, the fact that it’s JUST a blessing, is a fucking favor from the universe.”

Kady rolled her head to look at Julia. “You have a point. Still means more fucking shit just got piled on us, but you do have a point.”

“Okay, well then what does it mean to be blessed? And how do we figure out who did the blessing? Also why is it keeping Eliot in Fillory?” Alice asked.

Margo sat up straight, “Fen! It’s probably some fucked up Fillorian thing, here I’ll call the bitch.” Margo pulled a bowl out of the kitchen, filled it with water and set it on the table. No one else could hear the conversation between the two former kings, but Margo nodded along like she was getting her questions answered. She waved her hand across the bowl and looked up at the room. “Fen says the gods have been axed, so whatever dickface blessed you or whatever the fuck, wants like a champion or some shit. Fen said we need to get our asses to the well of souls and pull out a priest to interrogate.”

Eliot slumped in his chair, puzzled over the water bowl talky thing but also just fucking fed up with how much he didn’t want to deal with any of this. “Like we didn’t have enough goddamn shit to worry about, now there’s some half assed god out there looking for what….someone to save them. We do not have time for this shit.” Eliot was edging, his voice dipped into a lower register and he could feel every fuck that he might have given fly out the window. They’d all seen Eliot get angry, but everyone looked at him slightly askance, Eliot’s anger was very rarely of the firey kind. He could mostly freeze you out of hell when he was pissed, but he was losing his cool. Of all people it was Julia who snapped him back into focus.

“Eliot, when you have the blessing of a divine, it gives you potential power. Or even a favor. If that favor can get you into the underworld to get Quentin out, you can suck it the fuck up buttercup.” Julia snapped.

Eliot narrowed his eyes, “If the fucking thing that blessed me isn’t powerful enough to offer assistance, it’s a waste of my fucking time Julia. But I concede you might have a point, so I’ll go to the well of souls and we can pull out a priest to do a health check.” Eliot stood from the table, “Who’s going with me?”

Alice stood up from the couch, “Where is the well of souls?”

Penny interjected, “I actually know it’s beyond that huge ass tree in the Dark forest place. Don’t ask me how I know, but I do.” Penny shook his head.

Alice nodded at Penny’s response. “Kady and I will head back to the library and see if we can pull any info on New Fillory gods. We’ll also see what we can come up with on divine blessings. I think Julia should go with Eliot, and I think it would be good if Penny took Margo to Fogg and see if he has any information that might be useful.” Everyone nodded and Penny grabbed the girls first to get them to the Library, Eliot and Julia waited their turn. Eliot privately thinking he should mention that he had heard a voice inside of him earlier, but it hadn’t said anything useful and it hadn’t made a repeat appearance. He didn’t though, he just watched them all, a blanket of exhaustion weighing on his shoulders and his patience hanging by a thread.


	3. Wandering in the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julia and Eliot go soul fishing.

# 

_He shook himself awake, the difference between awake and not awake was no longer sleeping. His body didn’t rest and his mind didn’t quiet, there was only movement or not movement, feeling or not feeling, pain or no pain. Something was coming, closer than he’d ever felt it before, but the darkness still wrapped so tightly around him he couldn’t be sure he was imagining the presence. It felt like a lion was pacing just behind him, but he couldn’t turn around because his awareness was wrapped in the abyss. He slammed his clenched fist into his stomach, he needed to be ready he knew, even if he couldn’t quite grasp what he needed to be ready for, something was coming for him and he needed the pain to keep him alive._

Penny teleported them to the place he saw in his mind, and promptly left Julia and Eliot to make their way into the very large tree he’d deposited them in front of, blinking out without so much as a goodbye. Eliot shook his head, “After you…” He waved at the tree entrance, indicating Julia should go first.

She shrugged, “Here we go.” She stepped through the base of the tree with barely any hesitation at all. Eliot followed with just as little hesitation. He was annoyed as fuck that they had to do this, but on the other hand if this place held answers he’d skip through with a fucking Shirley temple in his hand. Which made him think of alcohol, which in turn made him want a fucking cigarette so bad his mouth watered. Margo had put the 180 on all of his vices since the Monster had taken them to excess, she and...well...if Eliot was honest he, wanted to make sure he was completely recovered. So not a drop, not a pill, and not a single cigarette for the past month. It was a motherfucking tragedy.

The interior of the tree, wasn’t very tree like, and was in fact colder than hell. Eliot stepped over the final root in the path. They certainly hadn’t walked into a tree with a tree interior. Eliot’s eyes went wide and he looked to Julia to see her eyes just as wide as his. Ice covered the walls, snow covered the ground, and snow was falling in a light drift from somewhere above. They’d walked into some kind of snowy landscape.

“I wish we’d dressed for this.” Julia said as she rubbed her bare arms to try and bring in some warmth. There was no clear path ahead, no stepping stones or footprints to follow, but she shrugged “Onward into the snowy night I suppose.”

Eliot peered around again. She was right, the landscape was bathed in some sort of light glow that mimicked moonlight, but as he looked to where the sky should be he couldn’t see anything that passed for a moon. He could still see Julia and make out what was before them. The snow wasn’t very deep, it barely covered his shoes, but he could feel the cold in his toes. It was all very lion the witch and the wardrobe, but just a little bit blue. A small smile graced his face as he imagined how fascinated Quentin would be by this development, he’d probably run through the forest looking for a lamp post.

“Fucking fantasy world defying all sense.” Eliot muttered to himself.

“Speaking of things defying sense, why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on between you and Quentin.” Julia said sharply as she stomped through the snow.

She caught him so off guard Eliot sputtered, “nothing”.  He knew the minute the word was out of his mouth Julia was going to attack. She was fire in a bottle, and her anger blew over him so harshly Eliot could literally feel it crackling along his skin.

“Oh really, you honestly expect me to believe that Eliot. You can barely function, and most people would chalk that up to post possession depression, or even some mental shit about not owning your body. Most people, but I’ve been exactly where you are, and frankly this level of disassociation is complete bullshit.” She waved her hand about as she continued to jab him with words. “Not to mention the pure focus you’ve devoted to getting Quentin back, shooting the monster so Quentin doesn’t get imprisoned in Blackspire, and Margo suddenly getting a letter from Q about a life you two lived in Fillory. You’ll excuse me if I don’t fucking believe you.” Her voice had risen and echoed in the strange forest, and her words were like pointy little daggers.  


Eliot sighed. He looked down at his shoes as they waded through the lightly packed snow. Could he talk about Q? Could he actively acknowledge what they’d both gone through while the monster was inside of him? He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. She was Q’s best friend, and he probably knew more about her than she would be comfortable with. He and Q had spent more than a few days in Fillory telling each other everything there was to know about the women they called best friend. He watched Julia’s profile and he knew to get her to back off he’d have to say something, but he just…..couldn’t. So he tried to pass it off, “It’s really not for me to tell you. If Q hasn’t told you already…I mean if he wants you to know, when we get him back, he can tell you.” Eliot knew he’d made a mistake the minute Julia swung to look at him, her eyes on fire.

“You will fucking tell me Eliot. I watched my Best. Fucking. Friend. stare down a god for you. Q has always been brave, but he’s never been what you would call a rock. I watched his backbone become a solid steel rod in the face of the monster using your body like a carnival ride. He was drinking, popping pills, and basically using your body as a playground. Then he had Quentin by the throat, choking the life out of him, but Q stood there and told him he could fuck right the hell off if he hurt one hair on your head again. I’ve never seen him look so goddamn stubbornly set in my life." Julia ran a hand over her face. "Q can be sarcastic, and he can be stubborn, and he's protective, but there was something in his eyes that day Eliot; so, you’ll fucking excuse me if I want to know why the hell you have that kind of hold over Quentin, and what the hell is motivating you right now.” Julia crossed her arms over her chest, as she snapped at him.

Eliot had a very fine control of his emotional state, very fine. It was not evident to everyone, he crafted a very good image of a carefree lush, but under that veneer he kept a tightfisted control over what he allowed the world to know about him. Everyone had been pushing against him when he’d first come back to himself, questions and concerns pounding against him from all sides, and he hadn’t broken, not once, even though it had been close. He couldn't maintain the carefree lush facade, but he'd managed to keep them at bay with his serious Eliot face. Margo, genius that she was, could see how delicate he was in the beginning, and had suggested he come with her to Fillory. He’d jumped at the suggestion, the more they pressed the closer he came to breaking down, and hiding in Fillory was a godsend.

Julia telling him that Q had gone toe to toe with the monster, putting his life in danger, was all that it took to break that control. When he’d come back to himself he’d avoided all discussion of what Quentin had gone through for that very reason. He stopped in the middle of the icy forest, looked into the darkness above him, and let the tears fall. Eliot didn’t sob, he didn’t struggle for breath, he just stood there in the blue magical light, and let the pain overwhelm him. If he hadn’t come out of his happy place and let Q know he was alive, they would have killed him that day…that much he knew, and against all odds Q would probably still be alive. Every decision he’d made since he shot the monster has led him to this place, and the tears just kept falling.

Julia jerked to a stop. She’d never seen Eliot fall apart like this. He’d been withdrawn, quiet and intense since Quentin died, offering to do anything they needed him to do to help research how to get Q back. His recovery was slower than it should have been because he refused to sit idyll, but he had gotten better. Eliot had been active and busy, but he hadn’t lashed out, he hadn’t shown even a spec of the emotional strain that Quentin had been suffering everyday that Eliot had been possessed. It contributed to her fury, she recognized she was looking for something or someone to blame and she wanted Eliot’s suffering, she wanted his pain to equal her own, she just hadn’t been able to see. If Q hadn’t been so goddamned desperate to save Eliot, he might still be alive, and frankly she’d rather have one over the other. But, looking at Eliot standing there, tears streaming down his face, she didn’t think she could feel any shittier. “You love him.” She stated, that was really the only thing that could make sense, even though it made no sense.

Eliot laughed, a short burst of sound. He turned his face down to her keeping his body straight and tall, ever the proud figure, she recognized the King in him and just under the surface the mark of the divine. “Yes.” He said quietly but firmly, bravery apparently came easy when your world had been shattered beyond all recognition.

“This makes no sense, Eliot. None.” She shook her head trying to put it together.

Eliot started walking, taking deep breaths trying to get his emotions back to a nice controllable level. The tears on his face chilled in the icy air. Talking about this had the potential to send him into a screaming, crying, rage; and a part of him resented Julia for pushing him to the edge. The only way he knew how to keep it together was to refuse to acknowledge what Quentin had done, instead, focusing on the day they would have him back. 

“I’m maintaining that this is Quentin’s story to tell you, but...” he said over Julia’s protests. “I will tell you that we lived a life in Fillory. A full life, Quentin got married and had a son, his wife died and we raised that son together. He’s my family.” Eliot didn’t look at Julia, he frankly didn’t think he could handle her face right now. Stating the facts made his throat tighten and his eyes burn. It was so much more than the few words he was able to share with Julia, so very much more, but he couldn’t say how much more without losing his shit. Julia thankfully kept her mouth shut and let it go. He didn't really understand why, she wasn't the type, but he squeezed his eyes shut and gave a small sigh of relief.

They walked in blessed silence for another ten minutes when they finally saw the well. The snowy landscape gave the well an ethereal feel, he made a point to remember to tell Alice, if this place didn’t kill him first. He did wonder if the snow and the well were a new addition in flash forward 300 years land. And just how the fuck had Penny even known about the tree being the entrance to the well. They were Magicians, so they dealt in the weird, but the universe was really starting to annoy the fuck out of him lately. The well was large, more than 20 feet across if Eliot had to guess, and made out of white quartz stone. You could see the light shining from the depth of the well, and Eliot realized that the blue light shining through the snowy forest was actually coming from the well. Wasn’t this just every poet’s dream he thought as Julia walked to the edge and peered down.

“So you’ll just know when we find a priest. How the fuck does that work?” Eliot asked, still working on getting Quentin feelings back in their box, wiping his face while Julia wasn’t paying attention.

She laughed, though it contained no joy. “I was a goddess, I’ve lost the bit that made me divine, but some of the knowledge is still there, why do you think Alice suggested I come with you?

“How the fuck should I know, and that doesn’t explain anything. Are you just going to stick your hand in the soul soup and pick out a priest, how do you even?” Eliot said exasperated.

“It’s not that I’ll know per se, it’s more that—well a god’s servant or priest has a certain power mapping tied to his energy, and I can recognize that. The rest is just a small summoning.” Julia closed her eyes and started fishing for a priestly soul. Surprisingly the well didn’t fight Julia’s fishing, and she came up with a priest in far less time than she would have imagined. She drew the energy of the soul as high as she could and then gracefully brought her hands up, performing a spell that she’d memorized for a rainy day. She turned her face up to the snow and let it dance upon her face. The summoning was simple, and she pushed her magic into the request, pulling the priest from the well and letting him rest upon the snow at her feet. A flickering image of man pulled himself up to stand before her and she bowed her head.

 “You seek answers?” The image asked in a trembling haunting echo.

“We need to know what divine being has blessed my friend so that we may offer our thanks for their grace.” Julia raised her hand indicating Eliot and bowed her head again.

The priest peered at Eliot, light pulsed through the image. “He is not blessed; he is the Champion.”

Julia stared intently at the ghost like image, confusion creasing her brow. “What does that even mean?”

The priest tilted his head, “The Champion is chosen by the gods, his duty is to the gods, and his soul is bound to the abyss. He must crusade to battle the forces of evil that have descended upon this land.”

Eliot felt that small gossamer thread of control slip from his shaking grasp, he’d barely gotten it back under control and he’d lost it again. His voice dropped and fury spewed from his mouth, “I am not a fucking toy for the overstuffed arrogant assholes who created this place to play with. I have already been fucked with way far and above what _anyone_ should have to fucking deal with, hell we all have." Eliot waved in Julia's direction. "I am only here for Quentin, so unless the stupid fucker who didn't ask me for help has a way to help me get to Q, they can go to hell. I will not be made to..” Eliot broke off as he felt something within himself surge and his body shook.

The knowledge that had been coming to him sporadically over the past few weeks was surging through his mind, a white light engulfed him, and he dropped to his knees, pressure pushing him to the ground. He was so fucking pissed, he struggled against the pressure. The well of souls surged a bright blue, their priest fading back into the light. Eliot dug his fingers into the ground under the snow. He could feel the dirt under his nails, and the cold snow cooling his skin. Fire burned along his back, and screams echoed through the woods. Magic boiled through him and snow burst exploding into a fractal, like shattered glass surrounding him. He could hear Julia’s voice, but he couldn’t dial the power back. He quietly wondered if he was going to surge and become a niffin. This was too much, far too much power coursing through him. He pulled his hands from the ground, and wrapped his arms around his middle. Breathe in and Breathe out he told himself as he tried to pull it in, he needed to anchor himself and he needed to do it quickly. Fighting the magic inside of him, he thought of Quentin.


	4. Galaxy Quest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliot is submerged in the darkness, and must find his way to the light.

_A gentle breeze touched his cheek and he felt the light within him burn the fiercest it had pulsed since he’d found himself in this place. He slowly descended and he knew that far below him at the bottom of the abyss of night, his feet would find a foothold upon land, and waiting for him would be the sun._

Eliot opened his eyes and felt an anxiety he hadn’t felt since he was a child, wash over his body. He’d never had a panic attack, but he’d rocked Q through enough of them to recognize where he was headed. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t smell anything, and he couldn’t fucking feel anything. He’d once nearly drank himself to death chasing this feeling of nothingness, but now that he was dropped into a seemingly endless ocean of nothing, he couldn’t fucking breathe. Thank Christ he hadn’t let Margo give him a manicure she’d bitched at him about last week, he squeezed his nails into his palms trying to force pain into his flesh so he could ground himself. His body was floating down, or in a direction he assumed was down, with any luck he’d reach the bottom of whatever chasm he’d dropped himself into.

Breathing exercises and the pain in his hand allowed him to maintain his sanity, but he had no sense of the passing of time so he couldn’t tell how long he’d been lost in the anxious whirlwind of thought. He tried to pull the thoughts racing through his mind together into some kind of order. He knew he wasn’t in the underworld and he knew he wasn’t dead, but beyond that he had no idea where he was. It had to be in Fillory, since for all intents and purposes he wasn’t allowed to leave. At the same time, what the fuck world had a floaty abyss in it. He tried to get his fingers to form any kind of light spell, but he couldn’t see his hands and he couldn’t really feel their movements, so either he was fucking the spell up or he couldn’t do any magic.

His eyes kept trying to find some indication of physical form within the darkness. His mind was trying to create something for him to focus on. He thought of the well, and the power surging through him. What the hell, had he teleported here? Had something pulled him here? What the actual fuck. He needed books and the other magicians, they needed to figure this out because he couldn’t just go around losing his shit all the time. So focused on his thoughts of the magic surge, he didn’t realize he had reached the bottom of the darkness and there was actually solid ground below him.

The minute his feet hit something solid, he fell to the ground and planted his hands on what he hoped was earth. He pressed his cheek to the ground and lay there to try and get his bearings. The ground wasn’t soft, it wasn’t grass, it wasn’t dirt, but it wasn’t rock either. He had no idea what the fuck he was laying on. A soft white glow appeared before him and it made Eliot want to shout his frustration but he didn’t. If the light was the way out and something existed within it, he didn’t want to piss it off before he got a good look at whatever it was, so he kept his mouth shut. The light had to be less than a football field away from him, so Eliot pulled himself up off the ground, not seeing any other alternative other than going towards the light. He set off walking hoping that whatever he ran into wasn’t going to kill him, and that whatever control he had managed to pull back together would help him keep his sanity in whatever the hell abyss he found himself in.

He walked, and walked, and walked looking forward for something in the inky blackness. He could see the light, but it wasn’t illuminating anything. Time swirled around him, and he started to feel the pointlessness weighing him down. If something existed in the darkness around him or the light beyond, walking around aimlessly wasn’t going to find it, he didn’t appear to be getting any closer to the light. With that thought in his mind, Eliot tripped, his palms and knees slammed into the ground.

Before he could raise himself back up to his feet, the ground below him began to soften and he couldn’t move his legs. The light in the distance winked out, and he felt a cold weight descend upon him. His legs were sinking. The ground below him had turned into tar, and his body was submerging. Eliot began to panic, he struggled twisting his body, trying to make sure his hands didn’t get pulled under, but it was no use. Goddamnit he thought. He’d come too far, what the hell kind of test was this, and to add to that thought, what waited for him at the end? He tensed his body, if Quentin was waiting for him at the end of this godforsaken darkness, then he had to figure this out, he had to pull himself through. Against Eliot’s better judgement, a tiny sliver of hope burned inside of him, that all of this was just some fucked up test to make sure he was worthy enough to bring Q out of the dark.

Eliot wiggled his body in the sticky tar trying to pull his body forward at all costs. Forward was the only thing he could understand, if he sank to the bottom all hope of getting through this and finding Quentin would be lost. Eliot felt the power inside of him spark, he couldn’t do spells, but he could call upon the magic that had wrapped itself around his soul. He did something he hadn’t done since he was a child. Something he hadn’t done since he understood how useless an action it was to perform. Eliot prayed. He didn’t pray to something as asinine as a god, no he closed his eyes, he pulled on the power inside of him and he prayed to the hope that he _would_ find Quentin. He clung to the feeling of pure love that he had for Quentin. In the Happy Place he'd acknowledged that love and swore to Q that any bravery that he found within himself was because of Quentin. Eliot steeled himself and dove head first into his feelings. What a fucking world he thought, running from his emotions had been his routine for so long, he could actually feel it as his mind slid through the feelings he had buried. 

He could see Quentin’s face, his smirk, his shy quiet nervous expression, and Eliot took a deep breath. He’d avoided doing this since Quentin had died, all thought of him had been pushed out of his mind. The only thing he had room for were thoughts about finding Quentin, and he’d focused so entirely that he’d pushed his memories into a black tar pit not unlike the one he was sinking in now. Eliot stretched his arms out and turned over onto his back, so he was floating in the tar, and he let every memory he could conjure of Quentin wash over him. The hug when he became king of Fillory and everyone abandoned him, the hug when Alice died, Quentin crowning him High King of Fillory, the hugs at the mosaic, holding their boy, memory after memory washed over him and Eliot was happy to drown himself in the life they’d had together.

The cold weight from before receded, and Quentin’s gentle light bathed away the darkness. Eliot breathed deeply for the first time since he’d lost control of his magic at the well, he was absolutely certain that Quentin was here. The tar receded and Eliot grinned, then he laughed, then he stood up and turned towards the light that had begun to pulse once again in the distance. Now he could make out the shape of a cottage in the distance, and he was walking on actual earth. Hills and mountains were in the distance, and he could see the night sky full of stars. He made it to the cottage far more quickly than he imagined he should have, but he was too excited to see what was inside. If it was what he thought it was, every second he wasn’t inside that cottage was a wasted second.

The light grew stronger as he got closer to the door of the cottage, and he realized the light was coming from inside. Stepping up to the door, he ran his fingers through his hair, silly that he was worried about what he looked like, but the anticipation of what lay beyond was putting a hoard of butterflies in his stomach. He opened the door and looked inside, and felt his knees go weak. He felt the faith roll through him as he had been trapped in the tar, but the realization of that faith was almost more than he could bear. The cottage had a living room with a bed at its center, blankets piled up on top, and at the center curled in the fetal position was Quentin. Eliot ran into the house and threw himself onto the bed. “Quentin, are you okay?” It was possibly the most inane thing he’d ever said to him, but he could barely breathe even though the words came out of his mouth in a frantic burst.

He put his hands on Quentin’s chest so he could make sure he was breathing, and the light exploded. Eliot groaned, and felt the warmth from before surround him. He could feel again, he could hear a quiet ocean in the distance, and the he finally noticed the lit candles in the cottage around him. He knew there was probably more that he should be paying attention to, but Eliot could only see Quentin. His body was wrapped in some light cotton tunic, and Eliot rolled him to his back.

He was waking up slowly at first and then he jerked up. With a breathy exclamation, Quentin gasped “Eliot.” Then Eliot’s arms were around him and they were both shaking. Eliot felt the stuttering of Quentin’s body as he sucked in air. “Are you real?” Q whispered in his ear. Eliot just squeezed him tighter, he dug his fingers into Quentin’s shoulder’s, he needed to feel his body, he needed to feel the breath in his lungs moving his chest against Eliot’s chest, their hearts racing pounding the blood through their veins, he needed to hear him breathing because he was breaking down from the inside out. They sat there in the quiet candlelight, breathing each other in and out. For every breath they took, Eliot felt just a little bit more steady. He backed up a bit, when his heart stopped racing so frantically, he cupped his hands around Quentin’s face stroking his cheeks with his thumbs.

“Q talk to me. I need you to tell me if you’re okay.”

Quentin blinked, “I’ve been waiting, I’ve been waiting for so long, I almost couldn’t feel you anymore El. I almost couldn’t feel anything.” Quentin pushed Eliot’s hands away from his face and pulled him back into his arms. Then he pulled him down onto the bed and curled his body around Eliot’s. Shifting his leg between Eliot’s legs and his arms wrapped as tightly around Eliot as he could get them without cutting off Eliot’s breathing. “I can barely feel you now, are you really here?”

Eliot stroked his fingers through Quentin’s hair, and ran his hands down his body trying to hold onto the physical touch of Q’s body against his, and the warmth, the beautiful fucking warmth of Quentin’s body against his own. His movements were jerky and a little bit frantic, but he was afraid that if he missed touching one part of Quentin he was going to lose him again. At any moment he could just drift away, he couldn’t stop touching him. “Yes Q I’m here, wherever the hell here is. What happened? Do you know where this is or what’s going on?” Eliot kept his voice at a whisper, not wanting to disturb the blanket of peace that surround them. Looking at Quentin’s face, he seemed dazed, he seemed to be floating, drifting in and out of reality.

“I saw Penny, I saw you all tell me good bye. You were so fucking sad El, and then when I turned around and walked away from Penny, I went through a door. I closed my eyes because I was afraid. When I opened them there was nothing, and there’s been nothing. I thought….I thought I’d just stop at one point, but I felt this pain inside of me, and I held onto it as hard as I could. I knew if I let it go I’d never see you, I’d never see anyone again.” Q was silently crying as he explained to Eliot what happened, Eliot could feel the tears on his skin and it broke his fucking heart. But, everything that Q was saying shed exactly no light on what the hell was going on.

Eliot kissed Quentin’s forehead, “Q I can feel you, you can feel me, we’re here and we’re what I think passes for alive. We need to figure out what the hell we’re supposed to do. I need to get you home to everyone, I need you to be okay.” Eliot said the words as his cheek rested on Quentin’s forehead, he knew he sounded desperate, that his words were frantic, but he was done hiding. He was done pushing away his feelings, and he needed Q to understand how much he needed him. He could feel the warmth of his skin, and it was the most comfort Eliot had felt since the monster had been pulled out of him.

Quentin took a deep breath, and sat up pulling away from Eliot. Eliot didn’t want to let him go, but he knew they needed to get this figured out so they could go home. He’d fucking found him, that was more than he’d hoped for when he got out of bed that morning. He’d fucking found him, and he was breathing and talking and Eliot put his hands on his face trying to hold back his tears and focus. Jesus fucking Christ he needed to pull it together.

Quentin ran a hand through his hair. “How are you here? 


	5. Within you is my Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliot and Quentin are finally given some answers.

_The sun flared to life, and he put his hands around the blinding light, claiming it for himself. The lion roared and the darkness shattered._

 

“He is here Chosen, for all of us.” A raspy voice announced from behind them.

Quentin and Eliot whirled around on the bed, as much as they were able with the blankets wrapped around their legs, only to come face to face with the most beautiful woman either of them had ever seen. It wasn’t that her beauty was her face or her body, it was something beyond that, she was life and that life was beauty. Her hair was short, blonde, and slicked back; she wore a tan dress that made Eliot think of the earth and gardens; her eyes were so green he could barely look at her. As Eliot gazed upon her, he felt the power of the mosaic, she had a steady glow of light surrounding her and he realized she was the walking embodiment of life. He didn’t know what to say, and Quentin was equally as speechless.

Then behind her, coming through the door, was a man draped in a cloak of pure darkness. Eliot couldn’t see through the darkness; there was no body, he was a void with a head. It was freaking weird. Over his head, he had a helm of some kind, almost as black as the cloak of darkness around him; but Eliot could see his eyes through the slits in the helm, and they were red. Eliot’s brows shot up as he felt something of the darkness from before, “You’re the one who brought me here?”

The man looked Eliot in the eye, not backing down and making no concession. “Yes, I did.” His voice wrapped around the two men, dimming the candles in the cottage and pulling the darkness from before closer to them.

Eliot stood up from the bed, making sure to keep Quentin behind him, “Explain, now.” Eliot had been through hell, and he drew the strength he found inside that hell around him like a shroud as he commanded answers from the two before him. Eliot wore his command like a mantle, not even remotely caring who the gods in front of him were. He wasn’t going to back down. He should have known Quentin wouldn’t sit idyll; it wasn’t a second later that Quentin had crawled out of the bed to stand beside him wearing his own cloak of command. King had never really sat well on Quentin’s shoulders, but he wasn’t doing too badly as he stood by Eliot in support, a fierce look on his sweet face.

“You have been chosen as the Champion. It could be no one else.” The man said with his voice of darkness.

Eliot tensed. He wanted to lash out, he wanted to tell them both to go fuck themselves, but at the same time he was standing with Quentin beside him and for that he knew he owed the two before him. He sighed, ran a hand through his curls, and said with a steely demand, “alright, but we need answers, you have to tell us what’s going on.”

The woman turned and walked out of the cottage, indicating that they should all follow her; there was no hesitation in Eliot when he followed. He was ready for this all to make sense. When Eliot stepped across the threshold, he was no longer before the cottage, nor could he see the tar pit where he had nearly drowned. The inky blackness was back, but this time stars surrounded them. They were standing in the middle of fucking outer space. He shook his head in exasperation and looked at Quentin. Quentin returned his incredulous look and shook his head; he didn’t know what the fuck was going on either. He grabbed Eliot’s hand though, anchoring them both in the physical touch of their skin.

“I am Gaea; I believe you will both recognize the title handed to me by the ancient earth children. My brother, standing with me is Nyx, also another title the two of you may recognize. My other three brothers do not wish to manifest, but they are here. You have walked through the realm of Tartarus and Erebus. Eros is the light and warmth you feel when standing next to Quentin.” She waved her hands and once again, their view scape changed, they were in a sunny field, with 4 chairs and a table. She indicated that everyone should take a seat. “It is no easy thing, what we are asking you to do, this we know and acknowledge, but it is a consequence of all the choices you have made since ending the time loop and defeating the beast. Therefore, some responsibility does rest upon the both of you.”

Nyx and his creepy cloak of darkness, stepped up to the table. From the darkness he pulled out a sword, it was bright silver, and within the blade, Eliot could see the stars though they were no longer visible in the sky. Nyx laid it upon the table and as he spoke, Eliot felt darkness wrap around his body. “Magic will destroy your world and all others, it has already begun. Unchecked as it will be soon, it will result in pure chaos, extinction if you will. The two of you managed to thwart a god intent upon destroying what he considered the old gods, and for that, you were marked as something the gods should observe. It is few that may enter the abyss and crawl out of the other side. The abyss consumes the unworthy.”

Gaea nodded, “The end of everything has always been foretold. Ragnarok, Armageddon, or some other extinction myth has always been in the literature of your kind, and it very well may come to pass. But our creator knows that pure destruction would be anathema to the gods, and has tasked us with giving you the tools for which you may potentially make the choice to save it all.”

“And what exactly would we have to do to save all the worlds?” Quentin asked quietly. He understood that the two before them were gods; but he was still a little strung out from drifting in darkness for what felt like eternity, and he was struggling to keep up with everything that was going on. Eliot was beside him, an air of disdain in his look and posture. He was just as regal as Quentin remembered before the monster took him over; but Quentin noticed the air of charming elegance was absent. Eliot was as deadly serious as Quentin had ever seen him, and clearly unhappy with being named Champion to the gods. All of which was enough cause for concern, but Quentin was also trying to manage his own shaky grasp of what was around him. His anxiety was bouncing around his brain making him question everything. He wasn’t sure if any of this was even real. Eliot had been freed from the monster, but he was sitting beside Quentin in a pale grey henley and dark grey trousers. Less formal than Librarian wear, but consistent with their overall color scheme and so completely unlike Eliot, it made Quentin question how far he could trust everything around him.

Gaea tilted her head in acknowledgement of Quentin’s question. “You will need to wake the goddess of creation.”

Quentin blinked distracted from his inner thoughts about Eliot. “But you’re the goddess of Creation. Aren’t you?”

At his words Gaea laughed. Her husky voice lit up. “No sweet child, I am primordial. I came before life, all of us did. We were born of chaos, created from power. To create life, in the sense that you understand it, is the dominion of one goddess. Her light was extinguished once she called life into existence. If life is to survive, she must be here to protect it.” 

“Where is she?” Eliot straightened in his chair, asking the obvious question. Quentin nodded his head in agreement.

“Lost, she has been lost since the creation of your kind. To find her is your quest.” Quentin felt sadness wash over him as Gaea spoke of the other goddess. He wasn't sure, but it was almost as if she were speaking as a widow about the lost love of her life. 

Eliot stood from the table frustration tightening every line of his body, and the deepening of his voice indicating to the other three that he had just about had enough. “You cannot be serious. The end of the world is coming, and you think the two of us will just figure this out? Are you out of your goddamn minds? You can’t put that on the two of us, there’s no way. There is no fucking way we can do this. You are making a huge mistake.” Eliot remembered the overwhelming darkness from before, he remembered banishing it with a deluge of thoughts about Quentin; the power he had felt from defeating the darkness was heady and almost enough to bring him fully back to himself. But now, not only did he know Armageddon was coming; the two gods in front of him were trying to task him with protecting all of humanity. He could barely handle the past year, much less the end of the fucking world. It was too much, too fucking much.

Quentin’s hand came up to grip Eliot’s arm, twisting the sleeve of his shirt and intending to soothe him, but Eliot was at the end of his rope. He’d had enough, from everyone and everything. It suddenly dawned on him that the reason the magic add-on he’d been carrying around had felt so fucking familiar, was because he existed wrapped in a cloak of darkness much like the one that shrouded Nyx. Even with his beacon of light standing beside him, Eliot was just barely keeping himself afloat. He’d managed to keep from drowning in the tar pit, he’d crawled out of the abyss and into the light that Quentin offered, but he didn’t know how much longer he could hold on. His eyes flicked up to the goddess as he felt her power pulse through the clearing, it shook the sword on the table.

“You think we can just mark anyone do you Eliot Waugh? The mark of the Champion is not something we can reproduce lightly, we do not just hand it out at our leisure, and we certainly didn’t make a mistake.” Her deep voice shook Eliot to the core, vibrating his bones. He felt like he was standing under a rock slide. “We cannot control the actions of any being, we can guide and we can influence, but we cannot make choices beyond the power we wield. We are limited in our capacity for very good reason. I am the goddess of the land, you have made your way through my brother’s realms Erebus, Nyx, and Tartarus; they guided you both to this place. Eros held the hand of your lover so he wouldn’t lose himself inside Tartarus until you arrived. We need you and you need us because I assure you, that if you do not do this, everything comes to an end.”

Eliot’s hands shook and more than anything, he just wanted to lay down beside Quentin and just let it all happen, he sat back down with a sigh. A feeling of complete desolation was drowning him. He was tired, his body ached, and his heart fucking hurt. He closed his eyes and relaxed back into the chair, he pushed his fingers into his closed eyes, trying to rub away some of the exhaustion. Quinten hadn’t removed his hand from Eliot’s arm, and he felt it when Quentin tensed.

“Why me though. You said you’d marked Eliot as a Champion but you called me Chosen when you first showed yourself. I can feel the power in Eliot, and he’s one of the most brilliant magician’s I’ve ever met, so I understand why you would name him your Champion. But I don’t get why I’m here, why did you take me from the Underworld? Why do you need the both of us?” Quentin was scared of the answer. He’d been dead, he’d sacrificed his life for his friends, no for his family, and they’d pulled him from the underworld anyway. What did that mean and why?

Gaea stared intently at Quentin. “Do you imagine that the death of your earthly body is something that concerns me?  I can assure you it does not. You will need to find the goddess of creation. To do that you must understand all the pieces of creation. Life is death, time is life, infinity cycles, loops within worlds, you are born from chaos and darkness, and the two of you understand all of this on a primal level. The knowledge of this will guide you to the goddess.” Gaea stood from the table and placed her hand under Quentin’s chin. “As for you specifically Quentin, we chose you because you are magic. You were always destined to be a part of Fillory; you just never quite understood what part you would play. Without you, Fillory would not exist, nor would any realm with magic. You hold within you the seed of belief, far more powerful than any manifested magic, belief is what worlds are dependent upon.” She pulled her hand back and pulled something from her earthen dress. Upon the table, next to the sword, she placed a seed. She turned her gaze upon Eliot. “Now, as for why we chose Eliot, it is only because you would have no other. He is your Champion not ours.”

Eliot gaped at the goddess and then turned to Quentin, a question in his eyes that Quentin couldn’t answer. Gaea continued, “My brother put the mark on him at your request. You were submerged within Tartarus, the abyss, and Erebus wrapped around your soul, the light you sought was that of the sun and you summoned the lion. You called out, searching for the sun, and you forged that connection to the light through your pain. At the other end of that connection was Eliot, so my brother did as you commanded and appointed him as your Champion. When Eliot was submerged in the abyss, he reached out for you, which is the way of the Chosen and the Champion.” She shrugged as if it were an understood fact, simple and uncomplicated.

Quentin burst from his chair, and yelped at the goddess. “No I didn’t do that, I wouldn’t do that.” He was shaking his head as he placed his hands on the table. “I would never force Eliot…or anyone to…to…” Quentin’s words stopped, and he looked at the lady before him desperately needing her to tell him that he hadn’t forcefully bound Eliot to this quest.

But she didn’t get the chance to respond before Eliot was turning Quentin to face him. “Hey, hey look at me Q.” Eliot asked quietly. When Quentin refused to turn his face up, Eliot gently lifted his chin so he could catch his eyes with his own. “I would never say no to standing with you against the forces of evil.” Eliot said with a gentle smile. His intent had been to soothe the tension from Quentin, so he was a little caught off guard by the glare and pure pissy expression that came over Quentin’s face instead.

“Yeah well you didn’t seem to happy when Nyx said you were the Champion, and lets be real, I kind of did ask you to stand with me against the dark forces of evil once before and you said no.” Quentin’s voice didn’t change; he spoke in an even paced monotone. Remembering that moment, when he and Eliot had remembered the mosaic was something he did his best not to dwell on.  On some level, he agreed with Eliot, that their emotions had been running high, that they shouldn’t make decisions based off the shared memories they couldn’t even prove. But deep down, another part of him wanted to hit Eliot upside his stupid head and scream at him for denying, the both of them, what felt like happiness.

Eliot’s eyes widened and he moved his hands to Quentin’s shoulders gripping them, not letting the other man turn away, even though he clearly wanted to. “Give us a minute,” he said to the Gods, and they blinked away immediately. He knew they were still there, but he didn’t want eyes on him for this. It was time. Eliot drew in a deep breath, more than ready to lay it all on the table for Quentin. He deserved no less than Eliot’s soul, so he was going to give it to him. “Q I said no that day because I was scared.” Quentin jerked in his grasp, but Eliot held him firmly. “No don’t turn away from me, let me say this please.” He waited for Quentin to acknowledge his plea and continued at Quentin’s nod trying to ignore his fierce glare. He stroked a finger down Quentin’s cheek, and ran his thumb across his bottom lip, staring deeply into his eyes he said firmly, “You're so fucking brave, when you asked with complete wonder in your voice, I panicked. I ran away from you, and it had fuck all to do with you. I was a coward. I couldn’t imagine a world where we could work, because I couldn’t imagine a world where you would stay and put up with all of my bullshit. I thought...shit, I thought our time in Fillory was the best I would ever be. What I feel for you so completely overwhelms me Quentin, that all I could do was run.” Quentin’s eyes softened just the barest trace, but Eliot would take any dent in Quentin’s armor that he could get. “When we lived our lives in Fillory, we were tucked away in a little pocket, we had the same goal, and we never worked against each other because we both knew what outcome was required. Here in the real world, where I run like a son of a bitch away from my feelings, and fuck everything up at the first given opportunity, I knew I could lose you. The thought of that beyond terrified me. So, I threw myself away from you and any thought of what my own happiness, much less yours, could be.”

Eliot drew in a deep breath, his voice going hoarse with all of the emotion tightening his throat, his eyes burning. “I told you I loved you, but I told you that we wouldn’t chose each other if we had a choice. I hurt both of us that day, and I’ll gladly apologize every day for the rest of our lives.” He cupped Quentin’s cheeks in his hands, catching his tears as they slipped down his cheeks. Eliot’s own eyes were watering; but Quentin deserved to hear what he had to say, so he held onto his control so he could get it all out. “I need you to understand that you are not a last resort or optional, if I hadn’t been such a goddamned coward that day, I would have wrapped my arms around you and never let you go Q. Not because of the happy life we led in Fillory, not because I’m a selfish fucking bastard, not because the pain I felt at your death, and not even because I love you; none of that even matters. I would have said yes to you because every time I begin drowning in darkness, you’re there and you always lead me back to the light.”


	6. The Rise of the Champion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliot kneels.

 

Quentin couldn’t hold himself back, he threw himself at Eliot. He couldn’t imagine not hugging him after he’d opened himself up so thoroughly. Eliot had always held himself back in an attempt to project a particular kind of image, but standing before him in the realm of the god of the abyss, Eliot had stripped himself down and Quentin was looking at the barest version of Eliot he’d ever seen. Quentin sighed, “I love you El.” They spent several moments just wrapped around one another before Eliot pulled back.

“We really should focus on the life altering god stuff happening behind us huh.” He said, softly stroking the hair from Quentin’s face and a small smile on his lips.

Quentin nodded his head, “Yeah we should probably get this all taken care of before we take any more personal asides.” Eliot called out for the gods to indicate they were ready to get on with things, and they appeared suddenly once again.

“I trust everything is as it should be?” The goddess claimed before seating herself at the table. Eliot rolled his eyes at her, but sat back down as well.

“So now that everything is out in the open, let’s get back to how we’re supposed to find this goddess of creation, will the Library be our first stop?” Eliot directs his question to the two gods.

Gaea shook her head at them. “Unfortunately the Library, while expansive, cannot help you.” Her eyes seemed to glaze over, and she tilted her head as if she were listening to something far away. “Brother we must hurry. They grow impatient.”

Nyx stood from the table in the field, and turned his back to Eliot and Quentin. “I will go placate as much as I am able. You can send them on their way, I trust?” Nyx had turned his head in his sister’s direction when he asked.

“Yes, as you say.” Gaea reached out and stroked the side of Nyx’s helm, immediately after he was gone.

Quentin and Eliot gave her equally questioning looks. She began in her soft husky voice, “saving the worlds within our universe is not without argument amongst the gods, which means a group exists that does not wish for you to succeed. Within the abyss, you are not detectable. Quentin’s absence from the underworld is becoming noticeable. Eliot, you are still unnoticed because the veil of magic over Fillory is more difficult to penetrate for the rabble because of the time shift, largely why we bound you there after you left Earth. Regardless, as long as you do not return to Fillory or Earth before you find the goddess you’ll be perfectly fine.”

Quentin’s brows arched incredulously, “You mean I can go home?”

Eliot was just as flabbergasted, and said at the same time, “What the hell, we can’t go home until we’ve found the goddess?”

The goddess shook her head. “Where you’re going is beyond both Earth and Fillory. It’s a void, very similar to the Abyss that Tartarus manifests. If Nyx and I are correct, you’ll find Loira within the cradle of chaos.”

“What is the cradle of chaos? Is it why the Library doesn’t know about the goddess?” Quentin asked.

“A large part yes, but also because she’s a primordial and the Libraries magic struggles with understanding the world that predates humanity, though they would be loath to admit it.”

“Ha admission from them is equal to submission, it would probably improve their performance if they dropped to their knees occasionally.” Eliot said with an air of disdain. Quentin smiled in response.

The goddess laughed, the husky sound bouncing around the clearing. “You are much more yourself I see Eliot Waugh.” Eliot rolled his eyes at her. “Yes well the cradle can be accessed with the seed on the table, and once you breach the barrier the sword will protect you. Your magic will work no better within the cradle than it does here in Tartarus’ abyss. You will need to be careful; and with that, I must leave. Plant the seed, follow the path, and Quentin….do not forget why we chose you.”

The goddess didn’t wait for their response, she simply blinked out of existence.

Eliot and Quentin froze for a moment before Eliot stood and grabbed the sword. He motioned for Quentin to take the seed, “we’d better get started if we want to get home sometime this year.”

Quentin stood as well, grabbing the seed from the table, he looked around the field that was still manifested even after Gaea’s departure. “She didn’t say to plant the seed anywhere specific, and she didn’t send us home, so best guess I just plant it here?”

Eliot shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

They walked together beyond the tables, and when Quentin found a spot he liked they stopped. He dropped to his knees and began digging in the earth. As he was about to place the seed into the little hole he’d dug, he looked up at Eliot. “El, I think we need to finish the bond of Chosen and Champion.” A confused look came over Eliot’s face, but Quentin continued before he could ask. “It’s sort of a thing in Fantasy, I’m not going to go on and on about it, but you have to accept the position as Champion and I have to verbally offer it to you. I think it’s important. Our magic may not work, but we have to make sure the bond the gods created between us is solid before we do this.” By the end of his explanation, Quentin was nervous. He wasn’t used to mature, non-dramatic, stable Eliot; so it was anyone’s guess how he would take the request.

“If you think it’s necessary Q, then we do it.”

Quentin breathed a sigh of relief and wanted to pinch himself for even being slightly worried. “Awesome, give me the sword and kneel.”

Eliot laughed. “Kinky Coldwater, I like it.” Quentin rolled his eye, happy Eliot could still joke with as exhausted as he was beginning to look, and stood as well. He accepted the sword from Eliot.

Quentin drew in a shaky breath. This was similar to when he’d crowned Eliot High King of Fillory, but he felt deep inside him that this ceremony would define their future. He had read a libraries worth of fantasy novels, and he was still struggling to find the words that would help him convey the power of their connection. The seed in his pocket is what finally gave him the words he needed to define the role Eliot was embracing. He placed the tip of the sword on Eliot’s right shoulder. “I stand before one of the bravest men I’ve ever known.” Quentin said quietly and with as much strength as he could put into his voice. “He found his way through the darkness, and walked into the unknown with no fear and the barest of hope. Eliot kneels valiantly as the one I summoned into the darkness. We have been tasked with deciding the fate of the world, and I as the appointed Chosen, hereby name Eliot Waugh, Champion. Do you, Eliot Waugh, accept this charge?”

Eliot blinked up at Quentin, for some reason he wasn’t inclined to laugh even if the words were pure cheese. Something in the words that Quentin used pulled at the power inside of him. His Q was no dummy, this had absolutely been necessary. “I do accept this charge.” Eliot said firmly. Quentin nodded, and tapped Eliot’s left shoulder with the sword as he said “Then, I name the Eliot Waugh, Champion, rise.”

Eliot stood at Quentin’s request, and they both felt it when the magic snapped in place. There was no light or manifestation of the bond, but there was a current they could feel between them. They both gasped, and Eliot had to catch Quentin as he stumbled. “Wow” Q said as he tried to get his breath back, “That was intense.” Eliot stroked Quentin’s hair back from his face, and nodded in acknowledgement.

“Seed planting time.” Quentin handed the sword back to Eliot. He fell to his knees and placed the seed into the hole. He covered it and stood once again at Eliot’s side. “What do you think will happen?”

“Hell if I know, maybe it’s like Jack and the Beanstalk and we’ll have to climb our way to the giants.” Eliot looked down at Quentin with a smile. They stood there waiting no more than a few minutes when the field the goddess had created vanished from one breath to the next. They were once again surrounded by the darkness of Tartarus’ abyss. There had to be light somewhere, because Eliot could see inky waves like tentacles coming towards them. He lifted the sword and stepped in front of Quentin, he realized as he raised the sword that the light was coming from the stars trapped within. The goddess thought of everything it would seem.

Quentin grabbed the back of his shirt, and frantically whispered in his ear “We have to find the path.” Eliot nodded and began looking. He felt Q tugging his shirt and turning him and the sword to the right. He saw it then, just barely visible even with the sword, was something like brown dirt. He started walking towards what he hoped was their path, keeping the sword above him. It seemed the light was holding whatever was in the darkness at bay, he hoped like hell it wasn’t an actual dark powered octopus or what the hell ever, just beyond the light cast by the sword.

Quentin fell just a little bit behind and threw himself onto Eliot’s back with a shout. “Q what the hell?” Eliot snapped.

He felt Q take a deep breath behind him, “If you fall out of the circle of light cast by the sword, there’s something out there and it burns.”

Eliot blinked, well that sounded just about right. “Well stay close then.” They continued walking into the darkness, keeping their steps in sync and staying on the path. It was relatively flat, no ups and downs or twisty bits; and, once again surrounded by darkness, Eliot struggled to mark the passage of time. He had no idea how much time had passed before they came to a raised area of the path. He stepped up and made sure to pull Quentin with him, then abruptly stopped. The path  circled a hole in the ground, and the light didn’t illuminate any branches going in any direction. “Ha all of this for a hole in the ground, well isn’t that just fucking perfect.”

Q stood right beside him. “Gaea did say we would need to travel beyond Tartarus into another void. I guess this is how we get there.”

Eliot sighed a huge put upon sigh. “The things we get into.”

Q laughed lightly. “Together?”

Eliot shrugged, “The only way I’d agree to this in any way.” He grabbed Quentin’s hand and they both jumped into the void. Eliot didn’t feel like he was falling, but he wasn’t on solid ground either. Quicker than he could decide what he was feeling, they both fell to the ground. Eliot made sure the sword was extended so that it didn’t slice any of his or Q’s parts off.

 Then it hit him, the smell of decay assaulted his nose. “Jesus Christ what the hell is that smell?”

Quentin looked around as far as the light would illuminate, it wasn’t as bad as the abyss, but their visibility was greatly hindered. “It’s a dead garden.” Quentin said with disgust. He could see the blacked stalks and the dark melted ferns illuminated by the sword.

Eliot put his hand over his face and tried to breathe as shallowly as he was able. He found the path and motioned for Quentin to follow him. At least the monsters in the dark were no longer a problem, but he didn’t want to lose Quentin in this place either so he made sure to keep his eye on him. They walked, trying to avoid as much of the dead rotting foliage as possible, not entirely sure what they were looking for or what they might find. Quentin occasionally pulled Eliot’s arm up so he could cast the light a bit more widely, thinking he had found something, but so far everything they passed showed no signs of life.

Eliot could feel the exhaustion pressing in on his eyes. He’d been awake for longer than he could fathom. Technically he’d gotten out of bed that morning and by the end of the day he’d been on his way to the well, but with the screwy time fluctuations around him, he had no idea what time it was or how long it had been since he slept. It felt like days, as if he’d been on a bender and he needed to drop down and sleep for a week. He trudged along beside Quentin, but he knew he would have to stop soon or pass out. When Eliot thought he’d taken the last step he could, he opened his mouth to tell Quentin he needed a break, but less than three feet away he saw a bunch of gleaming white bones piled at the bottom of a set of stairs.

Quentin apparently saw them as well, because he picked up his pace and started pulling Eliot along. They couldn’t see the top of the stairs, it was too dark. The bones gave off some illumination, but not enough to penetrate the inky cloud above. “Eliot, are they human?”

Eliot studied the piles of bones, and didn’t see a recognizable human skull or anything else really so he said “No, there’s nothing in the pile that would pass for human, though I can’t even begin to imagine what kind of animal has square shaped bones.” He could hear Quentin’s sigh of relief. “Up the stairs then?” Eliot hoped there was something at the top he could pass out on because everything was catching up to him, and he was beginning to feel listless.

Quentin helped pull him up the stairs, and they both held in their astonished gasps when they reached the top. The sword easily penetrated the inky cloud, and as they pushed through it, they could finally see. Stars lit up a sky above them, and stretched out before them was an ocean, the stairs ended at a large obsidian platform and the water began like an infinity pool at its edge. The platform had an altar at its center, and more white bones surrounded the base. The water beyond reflected the stars, but it was still black as night. No waves disturbed the surface, and Quentin couldn’t see beyond the water.

Eliot stumbled towards the alter, but stopped just before he reached the bones. “Okay favorite chosen nerd, what does the altar in the middle of the void have to do with finding the goddess of creation?”

Quentin had his thinky face on and Eliot wanted to squish his cute little cheeks. He restrained himself, but also mentally slapped himself. Clearly, the exhaustion was making him stupid. His inner thought rambling caused him to very nearly miss the blush that suddenly overtook Quentin’s face. “Q, why is your face doing that?” Quentin’s face got redder, and his hands came up to cover the evidence. “Sweetheart, your skin is going to melt off if it gets any redder. Just tell me.” Eliot demanded as lightly as he was able, dreading whatever Q was about to say.

Quentin sat down on the platform, and motioned for Eliot to do the same. Eliot placed the sword down first then sat. “Um…well…um….we would have to” He went silent for a minute, took another breath, “the thing is….oh for fucks sake this is ridiculous.” Quentin sputtered out.

Eliot looked around, and it dawned on him all of a sudden, as he listened to Q stutter. They were sitting in front of a ritual altar with bones, but still a ritual altar for a goddess of creation. He giggled, “So is it sex or blood? Hmm or both? I’m guessing sex by the way your face is lit up.”

“Oh god.” Quentin moaned, embarrassed beyond belief. He should no longer feel this way considering everything the two of them had been through, but he just couldn’t stop the heat from suffusing his face. He was a grown ass adult who’d had sex damnit, he’d even had sex with the man beside him, there was absolutely 0 need for his face to heat up.

Eliot threw himself backwards, laying down on the hard obsidian, and laughed loud and long, tears leaking from his eyes. “You are so precious, and this is beyond ridiculous. They do know we are incapable of creating life.” Eliot said and did air quotations above him when he said the word life.

Quentin shook his head, “I think just, you know, the seed is enough.” Quentin did his own air quotations when he said seed. Which sent Eliot into another peal of laughter, his giggles echoing off the Obsidian platform into the starry sky above them.

“Well it’s not like I’ve never banged for god and country before, at least this time I’ll actually enjoy it.” Eliot said with a snicker.

Quentin shoved him as best he could with Eliot laying down. “Oh my god El, shut up. There’s probably a kraken in the water, this seems too easy.”

“Well are you certain this is what we need to do?” Eliot asked, his tone a bit more serious.

“Yeah, it feels right.”

Eliot raised himself up on his elbows, “Well get your cute nerd butt up then, we’ve got a universe to save.”


	7. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tentacle-y monster fight.

“You just had to mention a fucking Kraken! Move your ass Q” Eliot shouted as he rolled across the obsidian platform.

The minute Quentin had awkwardly crawled onto the altar, a giant monster with large floppy tentacles and so many eyes Eliot was dizzy, rose up out of the water like an avenging sea monster in search of ships to crush. Eliot slid across the obsidian, completely wet from the monster splashing about, and lopped off one of its tentacles resting on the platform. Black goo created sludgy puddles Eliot did his best to dodge while watching the monsters movements. Quentin was hiding behind the altar, doing his best to avoid any of the octopus like tentacles flopping about. Eliot kept his eyes on the monster, and danced around the platform chopping off tentacles that got too close to Quentin. He was going to have to kill it, but the only way he could do that would be to jump in the water. With no idea what lurked below its surface, hell there could be a Kraken number two, he yelled out to Quentin. “We need to get it out of the water!”

Eliot watched Quentin frantically nod his head and motion at the stairs. If they backed themselves down the stairs, maybe the kraken would follow. They’d lose the high ground, but Eliot couldn’t see a better solution with their limited resources. Quentin’s noise turned the Kraken towards him, the unwieldy monster began dragging itself towards them as they descended the stairs. Eliot missed one of the side tentacles, and it managed to slap Quentin down. He couldn’t rush to his side to make sure he was okay, the monster had a seemingly endless supply of appendages. Eliot crouched as one flew by his head, ran up some of the stairs and threw his long lean body on top of the crusty monster. He levered himself up on top of the monster’s head, and rammed his sword down into what he hoped was its skull. The monster flopped wildly as the life drained out of its body, and Eliot slid back down to the platform breath heaving and completely exhausted.

Quentin hadn’t moved, so Eliot picked his way through the overly large tentacles taking up most of the space on the platform. He crawled over the tentacle beside Q and knelt at his side. There were no obvious bleeding wounds, so he took a deep breath and prepared himself. Eliot was no healer, he had the bedside manner of a rock, and did not react well to seeing the insides of someone. Blow them up, fine; snap their necks, sure, but he didn’t want to see inside anyone’s body. Ever. Period. But, he needed Quentin up and about, so he shook him as gently as he was able and hoped nothing popped open or out.

Quentin groaned and Eliot let out the breath he was holding. He opened his eyes and levered himself up against one of the steps, and Eliot did his best to guide him. “I don’t think anything is broken, but I’m pretty sure that thing bruised every bone in my body.” Quentin said as he ran his hands through his hair pushing it back from his face.

Eliot watched him and almost couldn’t believe the stirring in his pants. He looked down at himself and quirked a brow. Was Quentin hot? Absolutely. Should his dick be interested now? Um no. What the fuck he thought.

Quentin noticed the direction of his gaze and his own eyes went a bit squinty, and then got progressively wider. Eliot assumed he was as surprised as Eliot was by the situation in his pants, but as Eliot stared, he noticed that Quentin also had a situation. What the double fuck?

He took Quentin’s hand to pull him to his feet, when the monster made a disgusting gurgling noise. They both swung towards the top of the stairs to see what the hell else was coming their way, but it was nothing. The monster was dissolving into pretty twinkling lights, drifting upwards but not dissipating.

Eliot and Quentin walked back up to the top, and as they reached the top step, the platform became a small square patch of soft green grass. The water was no longer black, but a clear pale blue and the smell of spring hit their noses. Both men felt weak with exhaustion and couldn’t even muster an ounce of surprise.

The concrete altar was still in the center, so Eliot and Quentin climbed on top.

“Do you think there’s something in the air causing the um.” Quentin broke off and made a hand motion towards his dick.

Eliot rolled his eyes. “Well assuming you are correct and we need to cum on this lovely concrete, I’d say yeah, something here is giving us a boost.”

During the awkward pause in their incredibly awkward conversation, Quentin just blurts out, “so what we just get started.”

Eliot chuckles. “Oh puppy no. First, I hug you for an inordinately long period of time, so we can pretend we’re not actually going to fuck a god awake, and then we get started.”

Quentin blinked, his eyes going wide. “We’re not actually going to fuck right, I mean we can I guess, but it’s been... well... awhile, and um... we don’t...”

Eliot full on belly laughed this time, his long torso bending as he drew in breathe. “Jesus Q shut up, no we’re not going to fuck, we just need to jiz on the damn altar, then we take a nap, then we figure out how to get the fuck out of here.” Eliot turned so he was straddling the oval shaped altar, waved his hand, and raised a brow in Quentin’s direction.

“Yeah okay, yeah that sounds um better. Christ. This shouldn’t be difficult, but for some reason..” Quentin trailed off.

“Darling, the mood is hardly ideal. I mean we’re sitting on concrete for gods sake, but I refuse to allow this to be painful. For either of us.” Eliot directed Quentin to turn around so that his back was against Eliot’s chest and his legs were out in front of him.

“Just lean into me, and I’ll take care of you. It’s not like we were given rules for this, nothing says it has to be a certain way. So just relax Q.” Eliot reached around Q so he was tilted precisely like he wanted, and pulled his own legs up so they were beside Quentin’s. Eliot settled Quentin against him comfortably, when he began to run his hands slowly down Quentin’s chest. He very lightly pushed Q’s legs apart. “See easy baby, we’ve done this hundreds of times.”

Quentin moved his own hands so that they were on Eliot’s thighs and tilted his head back to rest against Eliot’s chest. Eliot hummed in his ear and began placing light, very light kisses on Quentin’s neck. He massaged Quentin’s chest through his shirt, the light tunic the gods had dressed him in was very quickly removed so only the cotton pants remained. Eliot spent several minutes running his hands over every inch of exposed skin, trailing the tips of his fingers across Quentin’s chest making Quentin sigh with pleasure.

“I missed you Q, god I’ve missed you so much.” He said between wet kisses against Quentin’s shoulder.

“Missed you too, your hands feel amazing.” Quentin groaned as Eliot applied more pressure.

Eliot let his hands drift up and he tilted Quentin’s face towards his own. Quentin didn’t wait for Eliot to kiss him, he surged up into Eliot desperate for their mouths to finally meet. The kiss was slow, sweet, and full of Quentin’s desperate desire for Eliot.

Eliot broke the kiss and inhaled sharply, his face flushed a deep red, “You taste so good, sweet.” He set his teeth on Quentin’s ear. “Ready baby.” He felt Quentin nod, and Eliot slowly ran his hand down Quentin’s chest, feeling the warmth of his chest as he pressed a kiss into his cheek. Eliot’s nails scraped along Quentin’s stomach leaving red scratches in their wake. He pulled the hair in Q’s treasure trail, and brushed his fingers through it, stroking his way down to his destination. Massaging the heated skin lightly, he applied pressure with his fingers to ease the sting of his nails. Eliot pushed the waistband of the forgettable pants aside, he wrapped his long fingers around Q’s hard length and squeezed and giggled. Quentin smiled and raised his hand up so that he could pull Eliot into another heated kiss.

He closed his eyes, and couldn’t help but think “finally.” The weight in his hand was so familiar, and the strokes that Quentin liked best were as easy to remember as breathing. There has never been anything better than this, he thought. Nothing he would rather be doing in this lost place and nothing he wanted more than to make Q feel every bit as good as he knows he can make him feel.

Eliot shifted Quentin’s pants so they were no longer covering him, and let them rest just below his balls. He could see Quentin’s dick, he raised his hand to Q’s lips, and Q knowing what he needed ran his tongue across Eliot’s palm. Eliot sighed and brought his hand down to wrap around Quentin, easily picking his rhythm back up. His palm wasn’t as moist as he would like, but Quentin didn’t mind just gasped with the pleasure Eliot’s rhythm worked out of him.

Sweat began to bead on his chest, and his face heated up with every stroke of Eliot’s hand. He turned his face again, seeking Eliot’s mouth. Their lips met and Eliot quickly parted Q’s lips with his tongue. Quentin’s body tensed as the pleasure built, “Please” he gasped over and over as Eliot’s hand moved faster and faster.

Eliot happily worked him through the heightened pleasure. The burst of the climax rocked Quentin’s tight body, and Eliot made sure to direct his seed towards the altar. Quentin curled into himself afterwards, his body spent but tension squeezed his limbs and Eliot wrapped his arms around him as tightly as he could manage.

Eliot pulled Quentin’s pants back up as his body trembled under his fingers. He adjusted them both so that they sat beside each other letting Quentin slump against him. He was staring out towards the water in the distance, the stairs behind them and he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell they were meant to do now. “I suddenly feel incredibly inadequate which isn’t new for me lately, but honestly…I expected blooming fucking flowers Quentin, where are the fucking flowers? All we have is this lake and some fucking grass.” Eliot slumped with exhaustion.

Quentin looked around them despondently, when a blinding white light exploded and warmth suffused them both, something lifted them from the altar into the light. Floating above it all, Eliot got his fucking flowers. With a rush of air, the world below them became something like a paradise, or a secret garden.

Eliot assumed the creature on the altar was Loira, and as they floated back to the ground, he glanced at Quentin. As soon as Quentin’s feet hit the ground he was making his way over to the curled up figure on the altar. “Are you Loira?”

The creature raised it’s head and batted her hands at them. She didn’t have skin as far as Eliot could tell, she was made of light. Eliot thought her shape was that of an otter, like a cartoon otter, and it made him want to laugh. She was cute, and he could tell Quentin wanted to pet her. Rolling around on the altar, she chirped at them, and then jumped down. Her light pulsed and she was suddenly in the shape of a young girl.

A small breeze picked up, and the flowers around Eliot’s feet began to sway. The girl still hadn’t answered them, but Eliot knew she was the goddess of creation. It was obvious. She smiled and lifted her hands, “You have saved us all, go back to your home, I will call upon you after you have rested.” Her voice was unlike anything Eliot had ever heard, it was both musical, but seemingly also held the weight of the earth at its center. With a flick of her wrist, Eliot and Quentin were standing in the cottage in Fillory surrounded by all of their friends. The real world dropped on their shoulders, the real life exhaustion Eliot had been carrying around with him suddenly consumed him, and he dropped to the floor.

Margo was yelling, Julia was screeching at Quentin, and everybody was in motion. Eliot could barely follow anything, he just crawled his way over to Q so he could grab his hand to make sure he was alive.

“Fucking answer me El.” Margo’s shout finally made it through the fog in his mind.

“What?” he croaked.

“What the hell is going on you complete jackass?” she said fiercely.

“Well Q and I are going to have to talk about it, but I’m pretty sure we’ve been given some kind of magical unity quest from the primal gods. What that means I have no idea. What they need from us specifically, again, I have no idea, but we brought the goddess of creation back to life. That’s probably important.” Quentin stood up and pulled Eliot to his feet.

“As happy as I am to see all of you, I love all of you, Eliot is about to collapse in on himself. He’s exhausted. He’s been through hell, and I just got out of it. We’ll go sleep, and when we wake up I swear we’ll tell you anything you want to know.” Q looked at Julia pointedly, and she sighed motioning for Quentin to follow her down the hall.

Q stripped off his pants, and began helping Eliot get his clothes off, the minute they walked through the door of the little bedroom. He pushed Eliot into the bed and under the covers, joining him as soon as Eliot had settled. Quietly, but with as much force as he could put into the words he said, “it’s me and you El, til the end it’s me and you.”

Eliot pulled Quentin into him, settling his smaller body against him, and kissed his forehead gently. “Yeah, the two of us until the end, whenever or wherever that is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. I <3 comments and kudos. I reblog things [tumblr](https://unresolvednothing.tumblr.com/)


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